


Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by xenolinguist



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, I would help them but they should suffer through it alone, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, They're so fucking stupid you wouldnt believe it, marriage fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenolinguist/pseuds/xenolinguist
Summary: Fabrizio chuckled into the microphone, his eye not quite meeting the cameras.“Marriage… Y’know, I came to believe that it’s not entirely implausible." He had a hard time not to grin at the thought, he hoped the cameras didn't catch that. “I think maybe... it might be something for me. One day, perhaps."His original stance had not changed, it simply expanded:  He still doesn’t think marriage is a necessity. Fabrizio doesn’tneedto get married, but now hewantsto.At least, to one specific person.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello heres a little idea i had from a while back! 
> 
> i hope you like it, pls comment <3
> 
> follow me on tumblr:  bunny-banana

The microphone the young woman held in her well manicured hand was far enough from him to give him enough space yet he felt strangely constricted. Maybe it was the uncomfortable chair he was seated on, maybe it was the spotlights whose warmth was slowly turning into agonising heat against his skin. But all Fabrizio knew was that he fidgeted even more than usual.  
  
“Marriage? Well, that’s- it’s- “  
  
The question itself was neither complicated nor new, had he not answered it a handful of times in his lifespan? Perhaps even more often than he would like to. Yet he regarded it now in a new light, in a new perspective and that change came not too long ago.  
  


* * *

  
_They had been spread out on Ermal’s couch one evening. Enjoying the bottle of good wine the younger man opened, enjoying each other’s company, enjoying life. Moments like these where they’d spend time together in such harmony and tranquility were particularly close to the Roman’s heart. It was not the real deal, no, it wasn’t. But it was an illusion of the domestic life that could be had, of the things that lie beyond mere friendship that Fabrizio found himself craving but never dared to voice out loud. He had been glad for the wine to numb those bubbling feelings, but he had not been prepared for what came next._  
_Good humoured, Ermal took out the family photo album and shuffled closer to him._  
_“I had not shown you the pictures from Sabina’s wedding yet, but you gotta see them, Bizio, she was so beautiful! So happy!” He announced tipsy but ever so proud with a smile that would put the sun to shame._  
_And so they turned the pages, one by one. First a picture of Ermal’s mother. An elegant woman, who dressed just as well as her son. Following there were a few shots of the venue. A beautiful place, decorated in white and pastel green. Ermal praised the organiser for the choice of location, praised the restaurant for the delicious dishes and how everyone had been more than satisfied._  
  
_Next up was the bride herself, Sabina, clad in a dream in white, her blonde hair lightly curled at the end and a bouquet in her delicate hands. She was stunning, gorgeous and so, so happy._  
_Glancing up from the photos, Fabrizio caught Ermal in a state that made him almost gasp. Soft eyes were glazed with tears, his bottom lip trembling yet a smile fighting its way on his face. So wrapped in sincere boundless joy, Ermal almost looked ethereal. Fabrizio felt breathless at the sight. He didn’t even notice when Ermal turned the page until his eyes landed on the picture of Ermal in that pitch black suit with the pitch black half opened shirt underneath it, and Fabrizio had to correct himself. Now he truly felt breathless._  
_“...Oh”_  
_He could not explain how or why, but in that moment something...something clicked. Something clicked and he suddenly felt dizzy, his heart felt fuller than ever before and looking back and forth between the picture of Ermal dressed to the nines and the actual man right in front of him, he felt his entire brain short circuiting. A wave of imagines flashed in front of his eyes of Ermal once more in that beautiful suit, waiting for him, that same gaze full of love on his face but now directed at him and for the first time, all that echoed inside Fabrizio’s mind was:_  
  
  
_‘I want to marry you.’_  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Not that he could ever explain that right here right now in front of the eyes of the entire nation, no. He would neither be able to confess all of this in front of Ermal himself, let alone anyone else. Was it not ludicrous if not insane to have these thoughts? They weren’t even a couple, for Heaven’s sake. And neither would they ever be!  
  
And yet…  
  
That evening at Ermal’s changed his point of view fundamentally. It stroke him like a lightning, a shock that vibrated through every cell of his body. But what a sweet shock it was. He suddenly got it, understood the motivation to get married. Something that mystified him for years.  
  
He chuckled into the microphone, his eye not quite meeting the cameras.  
  
“Marriage… Y’know, I came to believe that it’s not entirely implausible. Perhaps it's more like a reward for couples that have been together long enough and proved themselves strong enough to get through the toughest of times.”  
  
What he failed to mention was what by ‘the toughest of times’, he immediately had to think of the Sanremo scandal. How it hit them both hard, how they stuck together, and how they didn’t let it bring them down in the end. Of Eurovision and how crazy that entire week has been. Of how Ermal stood by his side during all and any of this and perhaps they did deserve a little reward after all. Nobody had to define how much ‘long enough’ is, nevertheless Fabrizio could also live all his life happily with Ermal as his ...his something. Just being at his side would have been enough. But if one day he could call him his _husband_ ….. _**His** husband._ Another part of him, like a puzzle, they'd complete one another, be intertwined and connected. The word itself made him grin like a fool, God, he hoped the camera didn’t catch that. He cleared his throat.  
  
“I think maybe... it might be something for me. One day perhaps. I don’t rule the possibility out. No, not at all.” he added almost shily before the interviewer nodded and concluded their little chat.  
  
The camera slowly switched off and the interviewer thanked him for his time. If she had been surprised about this new information, she didn’t show it, but in all honesty, his original stance had not changed, it simply expanded: He still doesn’t think marriage is a necessity. Fabrizio doesn’t _need_ to get married, but now he _wants_ to. At least, to one specific person.  
  
  


* * *

  
**Same time, Bari.**  
  
  
If he ate one more piece of cake, he’d either vomit or develope diabetes. No, scratch that, he probably had the latter one already after having tasted each and every masterpiece that each and every aunt and cousine brought along.  
  
Family reunions were….a crowded, intense affaire. Not unpleasant though. After all, it was nice to chit chat with uncles and distant cousins from both Italy and Albania, see how they’ve been, talk about your own projects. His mother at least seemed to have a good time, and judging by how excitedly Sabina was trying to show their cousin how to mix cocktails properly, she was having fun too.  
  
Ermal too would have fun if he didn’t need to eat more of this goddamn cake, but alas how could he refuse when his little niece came running towards him demanding to sit on his lap and share her cake with her dear Uncle Ermal.  
“Why don’t we watch some TV, Miria? Maybe there’s a Disney movie on!” He pleaded cheerfully in hopes it’ll distract the child enough, although he knew damn well they wouldn’t be able to hear much with the noise around them.  
  
The girl eagerly agreed and snatched the remote control from the coffee table. And with a relieved sigh, Ermal watched her changing channels trying to find something suitable, her desert forgotten.  
“Isn’t this the Mister you sing with, Uncle Ermal?” She tore him out of his thoughts and when he followed her line of sight, he couldn’t help but light up like a Christmas tree. Oh yes, indeed, that was the ‘Mister he sings with’ giving an interview, being as handsome as ever.  
But not only him noticed the familiar face on the screen, his mother’s eyes too widened at the sight of Fabrizio.  
“Oh, look, Ermal, it’s Fabrizio!” She announced happily. Don’t get him wrong, he was more than glad that his mother was fond of Fabrizio but at the same time he felt weirdly embarrassed too. She always informed him whenever she spotted the Roman in a newspaper or on TV, as if she knew it would make Ermal happy. Which it did, but he felt strangely caught. God knows how overexcited she’d be if she knew the true extent of Ermal’s feelings for the older man.  
  
If only the embarrassment could end here but no, with a powerful voice she spoke to the entire room, rendering it silent in the process.  
“My dears, look, this is the man our Ermal won Sanremo with!” That was more directed to the Albania-based part of the family who really only knew Fabrizio as ‘the guy Ermal won Sanremo with’ (really, had no one of them ever bothered to look Fabrizio’s music up? What a shame.) but for all the concentrated attention towards the TV, at least he could now actually hear what Fabrizio had to say.  
  
  
“...That could wait for marriage?” The young woman on the screen asked and Ermal had to fight a snort. What an amateur. As if nobody knows what kind of stance Fabrizio so infamously has about that topic. Ermal knew it all too well too, but he tried not to think about it.  
  
“Marriage? Well, that’s- it’s-“  
Fabrizio mumbled while fidgeting with his hands and Ermal raised his eyebrow. He’d...he’d expect a rather fast and quick answer, shooting the interviewer down immediately. But what he got to see was Fabrizio who was looking anywhere but the cameras. Fabrizio was….bashful?  
“Marriage.” The older man tried once more before a chuckle escaped him “Y’know, I came to believe that it’s not entirely implausible. Perhaps it's more like a reward for couples that have been together long enough and proved themselves strong enough to get through the toughest of times.”  
And what seemed to be subconsciously, Fabrizio bit his bottom lip. The same way he always did when he felt ridiculously happy but wanted to hide his grin. Fabrizio was grinning about the prospect of marriage. Ermal couldn’t comprehend it.  
“I think maybe... it might be something for me. One day perhaps. I don’t rule the possibility out. No, not at all.” He finished so shyly that Ermal would have called it adorable had he not been in utter shock.  
  
“I didn’t know Fabrizio was planning to get married?” The silence was broken so tentatively by his mother, who couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice.  
  
“Neither did I.”  
  
Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach and needed to get out of the room. He managed to flee to the balcony. A safe haven of solitude where he flung himself on the railing, taking deep breaths in and out.  
What has he just watched? Nothing and nobody would have ever moved Fabrizio to say yes to marriage. He was always so vehement about it and Fabrizio Moro was a very stubborn man when he wanted to be. But there he was giving it a shot? Trying it anyway? And not only that but the way he behaved, he was bashful, he was coy, he was _blushing,_ for fuck’s sake.  
  
Fabrizio was in love.  
  
That was the only way any of this could make sense. Fabrizio...was in love. Judging by the fact that he would suddenly change his opinion means he really must have met someone _so_ extraordinary that she turned his whole world around? So much that Fabrizio would actually spent the rest of his life with her? But- how?! Since when?! He never mentioned anyone?! Quite the contrary. At times, a small part of Ermal would almost dare to say that his hopes weren’t all too one-sided. Just the small smiles Fabri would give him at times, the accidental touches. But that seemed to have been only his own wishful thinking after all. God, he was so fucking stupid. He had been so fucking delusional, of fucking course none of these things meant anything, of course Fabrizio had found himself some _girl,_ fuck, Ermal hated her already, who even was sh-  
  
“Uncle?”  
  
Over his shoulder he saw Miria unsurely peeking at the door, chewing on her finger.  
“Why are you sad?”  
  
Oh no, he shouldn’t have let her see him cry, he hadn’t even noticed when he started to cry in the first place. Ermal quickly whipped his tears away and tried to find all the strength in him to force a smile on his lips.  
  
“I’m- I’m not sad, what are you saying, dear? I- I- you know how I get sick around cats? There was just a stray cat jumping around the rooftops that’s why I got a little teary eyed.”  
“Mean cat to make you sick.” She frowned deeply and despite himself, Ermal had to choke out a laugher at her accusing tone.  
“Yeah, what a meanie that big black cat is. Very cute, but makes me very sick sometimes.”  
He stepped away from the railing ang approached his niece before kneeling down to her level.  
“So I’ve heard that you got a new huge doll house from your mama, why don’t you show it to me?”  
  
  
The pain still lingered and if he’s honest, he doubted it would ever go away completely. But he couldn’t allow himself to break down right in that moment, there were other times and places where he could process it properly.  
  
For now, he was occupied with setting the table in the miniature dining room for Barbie and Ken.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabrizio awaits a visitor.

Fabrizio was not by any means a dirty person. Hygiene-wise, speaking at least.  
  
All in all, he kept a household with a simple if not minimalistic interior design that didn’t leave much room for mess.  
It wasn’t always like that, though. Much like his life back then, his younger self was more prone to chaos, not a care in the world about such trivialities like order or cleanness when you just care about the chase for the next rush one night after another.  
  
But times change. _He_ changed.  
  
He had to. He wanted to. You find astonishing amounts of motivation to change your ways, once you are given a tiny human into your arms. That motivation to do well only increased when the still-tiny-but-now-a-bit-bigger human was joined by yet another new tiny human that both Fabrizio proudly called his own. Yes, he did get better for them and he keeps getting better for them. After all, one wants to be a role model for their children.  
And said kids happend to spend the day at their grandfather’s place, which meant not even any kinds of toys, drawings, or random one-piece-only shoes were scattered across the house. His place was basically _pristine._  
  
Fabrizio was not by any means a dirty person, and yet he found himself checking over every surface twice, wiping hectically every tiny spot away from the windows, rearranging the CD’s and DVD’s as if it would make any difference.  
So maybe he was a bit nervous about having a visitor to his new house.  
So what?  
That was normal.Well, more or less.  
Had he been this nervous when Giada, his parents or his band came over to the new place for the first time? Perhaps not.  
Had his current nervousness to do with the fact that said visitor was a certain friend of his who kept reappearing in Fabrizio’s daydreams about buying a three-tiered cake with two marzipan grooms on top? Arguably.  
  
“Get it together, you idiot.” He growled at himself as he ran his hands through his hair. Annoyingly enough, however, he did not in fact get it together.  
Fabrizio couldn’t even explain it himself, but since that particular interview and that even more particular question, all his thoughts were going in circles about that topic, more than before. And these jitters only increased when he remembered that he had invited Ermal over to see his new house a few weeks ago. Would Ermal like it? Like his new furniture? The surroundings? The garden and rooms?  
“Why does it even matter if he likes it or not, God dammit?! It’s not like _he’s_ gonna live here!” But all arguing with himself was to no avail, as he heard the long anticipated ring at the door.  
  
  
The microscopic chance he still had to get those inconvenient feelings under control was violently thrown out of the window once he opened the front door and saw the man in front of him. Had the black leather pants not been enough, then the dark red shirt surely took his breath away. This whole look got rounded up with a pair of black sunglasses and a dark suede jacket (for which, Fabrizio would argue, it’s a tad bit too hot outside)  
  
“I guess I’ve seen enough of the exterior design by now, don’t you think?” Ermal remarked with a hint of annoyance which was the callback to reality Fabrizio had needed.  
“Huh? Oh sorry, yeah, sorry, come in please.” Fabrizio said before taking a step to the side, allowing Ermal entrance.  
With crossed arms, the younger man elegantly waltzed into the foreroom, taking every detail in. Behind the sunglasses, Fabrizio couldn’t see Ermal’s eyes which somehow made this even more nerve-wrecking.  
  
“Neighbourhood’s not bad. Quiet. Looks family friendly.” Ermal mumbled at long last and Fabrizio let out a deep breath he didn’t realise he was holding.  
“Yeah, it’s great for the kids. They especially love the new garden, it’s even bigger than the one we had before. C’mon, I’ll show you.”  
The older man lead the way through the house, hearing how his friend slowly followed suite behind him until they reached the large garden, where set up against the wall of the house, there was a small grill accompanied by a tiny table, a few chairs, and even two loungers. It made a lovely terrace. Further into the green grass, the garden has been equipped with a swing, a small inflatable children’s pool and a rather cosy hammock that was hung between a tree and the garden fence.  
  
Ermal made his round, taking the sight in thoroughly. “It’s...lovely, yeah.” He said after a while “Perfect for a little family, I guess.”  
An answer which should have set Fabrizio’s mind at ease, but somehow it did in fact not at all. Today was ...different. Ermal had not said one negative thing so far, and yet Fabrizio felt a tension in the room. Something was different. Something, something, something he couldn’t quite name, but it lingered in the air.  
  
Shaking his head out of these thoughts, Fabrizio spoke up again.  
“That’s what I was hoping for. While my old place wasn’t bad, I wanted this one to truly be a family house.”  
“Oh, I’m sure you did.”  
Before Fabrizio could inquire what exactly that random reply meant, Ermal already walked passed him back into the house.  
“So are there any more rooms? Or do you spend the nights in the hammock too?”  
I spend the _days_ in the hammock. My back still kinda prefers a pillow and a good mattress for the 8 hour naps. C’mon, I’ll show you, I even got one of those foam pillows that moulds to your body.”  
Eagerly Fabrizio lead the way again and so the Grand House Tour began, starting off with his bedroom, followed by the bathrooms, the children’s rooms, the garage, they took a while longer in the music studio before going up to the kitchen and at long last made their way to the spacious living room.  
  
Ermal liked the house. He liked the tiles in the bathroom, liked how sunny Anita’s room was, liked the space and decoration in the music studio and even the design of the kitchen. He had been interested and given nothing but positive feedback. But it was all still so subdued. _Ermal_ was subdued. That’s what was amiss: Ermal’s usual spark and edge, his sharp tongue, his vivid aura.  
  
Was Ermal upset?  
  
Fabrizio mused over this possibility and what could have caused it while he took out two bottles of beer and made his way back to the living room where he found his friend standing at the bookshelf. He hadn’t noticed Fabrizio entering yet, and despite the sunglasses, Fabrizio noticed that Ermal’s gaze was not in fact glued to the any book or CD, but to the large framed photo above.  
  
It was them. Fabrizio and Ermal, and the thousands of people that had filled the Olimpico on that historic day. A day the former had dreamed of for years and years and when it happened, when he had reached the peak of his career, he did so that year by creating a masterpiece with a man he had barely known at the beginning of their project. A man who swept him off his feet, a man who inspired him and who, against all odds, helped him to victory. A man he fell in love with.  
Yes, the photo Fabrizio had chosen to frame and hang for everyone to see in his living room was him at the Stadio Olimpico, the stage of his dreams singing _Non Mi Avete Fatto Niente_ with Ermal, the man of his dreams.  
  
The silence was however broken by the clinking of the bottles once he set them on the table and startled his guest in process.  
“Sorry.” Fabrizio mumbled, before taking a seat.  
“It’s- ” His counterpart let out a shaky breath while two fingers of his disappeared underneath the sunglasses in order to rub his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”  
Ermal now too sat across from him and started nipping on the beer, avoiding Fabrizio’s eyes though. Unusual doesn’t even cut it in this case. The Roman thought hard about what could have happened recently that might have upset his friend and only one thing that Ermal had mentioned came to his mind.  
  
  
“So...Didn’t you say you were gonna have a family reunion of some sorts?”  
“Uhm, yes.”  
“And...how was it?”  
“Nice.” Ermal muttered unmotivated as he drank his beer and for a moment Fabrizio felt like he was talking to Libero whenever the boy got upset, but instead of talking just gave one-word answers. Fabrizio sighed and took a long sip himself before giving it another shot.  
“Just nice? Really? Nothing noteworthy happened?”  
Ermal seemed to give himself time to muse it over and he finally spoke again.  
“Actually...we were watching television. And you happened to be on.”  
  
Oh? Well, that took an unexpected turn.  
  
“Me? What was it? A music video? A concert rerun?”  
“No, it was live. It was you giving an interview.”  
  
Fabrizio froze. He couldn’t mean _that_ interview, could he? No, he couldn’t. What was the chance that Ermal tuned in right on that day, right on that moment. But what if it was. God, what if Ermal knew- what if he had figured it out that Fabrizio meant him- but no, there was no way he could, right? Nothing had given him away, right? Fabrizio had been careful about that. He had not let anything be too obvious, but still, his anxiety wouldn’t exactly listen to this argumentation.  
  
"Oh...R-really?" Fabrizio fidgeted in his usually very comfortable couch and hoped Ermal wouldn't notice. Luckily, the younger man wasn't even looking at him, too busy to pick at the label of the beer bottle in an almost aggressive way.  
"Yeah, I think you should reconsider what you said."  
  
What?  
  
Fabrizio blinked. "What do you mean?"  
  
This was the moment Ermal groaned and threw his head back. The first real emotional response he had seen of him today. The second followed suite in the form of a rather raised voice  
"What I mean is, I don't think you need to get married. Like, what for?! Is it really that great? No, it's not. It’s dumb and unnecessary! I don't understand where you suddenly got that stupid idea from that you need a fucking wedding. It costs a fuck ton of money and means nothing at the end of the day. Who even knows if you’d really want to be together for the rest of your lives? Honestly, idiotic idea really...." Ermal huffed annoyed before redirecting his attention back to his half peeled beer bottle, now picking at it even more forcibly.  
  
Ermal might have not punched him in the chest physically, but he might as well do that too. It surely would have hurt less that way and perhaps his heart would have at least one or two intact pieces. Rendered speechless, the Roman fought back the tears which started to pool in his eyes. No, he couldn’t let him see him like this. He wouldn’t be able to explain. He wouldn’t be able to confess, to deal with the consequences. Therefore, Fabrizio bravely swallowed and let his defeated voice speak up again.  
"You... you really think that? That it's...idiotic to want to get married?"  
  
Had Ermal been honest, he would have said no, no he didn’t think that at all. He thought it's beautiful, lovely and romantic and maybe, _maybe_ he could have imagined that concept with a certain someone someday. Maybe. But now.... Just the mere thought of seeing Fabrizio with someone else at the altar. God, it made his blood boil. Why the fuck did Fabri suddenly want to get married?! Who even was that girl anyway?!  
  
Instead, however, Ermal took a deep breath in order to control his anger, and said "Yeah, I think it's stupid and you should get that idea out of your head as soon as possible."  
  
Fabrizio honestly had no clue what to respond or how to react. All of this felt surreal in the worst possible way and had he not been seated already, he sure would have passed out. Neither said a word for the longest of time and when the tension became almost too unbearable, Ermal stood up.  
“I’ll- I’ll be going. See you around.” That’s how he fled, leaving Fabrizio behind in a house that now felt even bigger and emptier than before.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
In hindsight, Fabrizio could say, he had been lucky that he didn’t plan any commitments on this day. Well, ‘lucky’ was a rather relative term here seeing as he spent the first two hours after Ermal’s departure crying his eyes out. Not that he’d been of much use once he got his tears under control either.  
Devastated as he was, cocooning himself into the blankets of his bed seemed like a good idea. And while his foam pillow was marvelous for his head to sleep on, it didn’t really help with the tornado of thoughts that took place inside said head.  
Like the old mixtapes from his youth, Ermal’s words just kept replaying in his mind over and over.  
  
_I don't think you need to get married._  
_It’s dumb and unnecessary!_  
  
Even when he knew there was no hope at all for him and Ermal, Fabrizio at least still had his fantasy. His secret longing, his secret dream world he could indulge in. But now even that was destroyed.  
He hadn’t even known how against marriage Ermal was? He had never mentioned it before? He seemed so genuinely moved by Sabina’s wedding photos, but that was his sister. Ermal had been happy because his sister had been happy. That was it. There was never any enthusiasm for the concept of marriage itself. Quite the contrary, Fabrizio had to brutally discover today.  
  
_It means nothing at the end of the day!_  
_Who even knows if you’d really want to be together for the rest of your lives?_  
  
Oh God, and how surprised Fabrizio was to find how much it hurt to know that Ermal would never want to get married. Not even that, how much he hated the whole idea of it. He’d never want to proudly proclaim to the world how he is Fabrizio’s and how Fabrizio is his for the rest of their days. That would never happen.  
  
_Idiotic really…_  
  
It...it really hurt. More that he would have ever anticipated it would. Which made Fabrizio think; is that how his own partners had felt all these years when he told them he wouldn't want to get married?  
  
  
In the darkness of his room he fished for his phone in the endless mess of blankets before he finally felt the hard object. He wanted to check the time but a hiss escaped him first. Damn screen brightness and damn puffy eyes!  
Once the brightness was reduced, he saw that the clock read 23:15.  
Hm. Fabrizio was about to do something stupid, but he had been too tired by now to stop himself and so he dialed the number. After the second ring, it got picked up and a very wary voice answered him.  
  
"Hello?"  
"Have I woken you up? Shit, I’m sorry."  
"No, you haven’t, I'm just surprised that you call so late. Has something happened?"  
  
Fabrizio huffed a laugh but one without humour in it.  
"Giada, can I ask you something that might be very inappropriate to ask?"  
After a few moments of silence he heard her sigh.  
"I guess you can."  
He chewed on his lip, a few last moments of uncertainty if he really should go through with it, but in the end he knew he needed that answer.  
"When we were together... you... you did want to get married, right? You _wanted_ it?"  
"Fabri..."  
"Please just answer."  
She sighed once more deeply. Fabrizio was immensely grateful she hadn’t just hung up on him by now.  
"I..yes, I would have liked it. Not that I wanted it desperately, but I would have enjoyed it, yeah. Why?"  
"How- God, I'm the worst person for asking this, but how did you bear it? The pain of me saying no?"  
A long terrible silence set in and Fabrizio contemplated that maybe now was the moment she’d definitely hang up, but then Giada found her voice again.  
"You just .... you just learn to accept it, live with it. Because I loved you. And you loved me. And that was as good as it got."  
"What? That’s it? But it hurts! It hurts so much! How should I-"  
"Fabrizio.” Oh no, she was using her stern Mom Voice on him. The one she would scold the kids with. Just now it was less funny when you’re the on the receiving end. “This whole conversation is so very bizarre as it is but... what is going on? Do you have a girlfriend who doesn’t wanna tie the knot and that's why you are moping?"  
He knew it was not fair. Not fair in the slightest. He knew it really was not appropriate either to discuss his love life and his heartache with Giada whom he once inflicted the same pain with, but Giada...was Giada. His closest friend, the person who knew him so well, who’d been with him through a lot and who would always listen and give advice.  
  
"We aren't even together! You said you could bear it because I loved you, but I don't even have this!"  
"Oh dear... But she must be someone special since you of all people are considering marrying her."  
"H- yeah, yeah. Very special.” He stumbled upon his words, but ultimately decided to postpone the conversation about correct pronouns and all the other implications and consequences they brought along for another time.  
“I just- I don't know how to deal with the fact that I'm not only willing, but _wanting_ to actually do this with this specific person and having that not reciprocated... I don't know what to do, I feel devastated."  
"Fabrizio. You cannot force people to marry you, I know that from experience..-" Ouch, that stung. "So, if you aren't even together, you should let it be. If she isn't willing to do that step, then neither should you. I’m honestly sorry you feel that way, but if she’s a friend, then this is precious enough, isn’t it? She can still be in your life, just not in that way you hoped, but it should be enough, right?"  
  
He knew she was right. He knew it was pointless. But having another person giving him that confirmation was just another punch in the stomach. He really couldn't force Ermal into something he didn't want, and all things considered, he’d rather have the curly haired man in his life in some way than not at all. So the only way was truly to try to get that idea out of his head.  
  
“I guess, I guess you’re right.” He nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “I guess, I really have to let it be and just be happy with the friendship we already have.”  
“Good, now catch a few hours of sleep and tomorrow the world will look brighter.” She was about to end the call but Fabrizio intervened timely.  
“Giada?”  
“Hmm?”  
“I’m sorry.” He whispered into the dark room and he knew she understood his apology. It was an apology he had never given her before, one he never deemed necessary, but one Giada deserved to hear nevertheless even if it was too late by now.  
On the other side of the line, Giada simply huffed as if amused before she tiredly whispered “Sleep well, Fabrizio.”  
  
  
Fabrizio didn’t sleep well that night. And neither the next night. Or the night after that. But he eventually would. He had to. Perhaps it would sting for weeks if not months, perhaps it would still pain him to look at Ermal, but he’d get accustomed to it, he’d learn how to deal with it. And even if deep down he doubt it, maybe he’d one day find someone else. Someone who’d want to spend the rest of their days with Fabrizio. Someone who’d never be quite like _him_ , but maybe they could distract Fabrizio enough to live with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i really decided to go from bad to worse huh
> 
> anyway, send your death threats along in the comments xoxo


End file.
